


Consumption

by hanwritessolo



Series: Something Spaces [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Reader-Insert, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-04
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2019-01-29 09:40:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12628173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanwritessolo/pseuds/hanwritessolo
Summary: Sometimes, you just can't bring yourself to behave when Ignis busies himself with his cooking. Good thing you know the secret ingredient for a good, delicious distraction.





	Consumption

It’s always been comforting to watch Ignis work his wonders in the kitchen.

Perhaps it’s how he cooks so effortlessly regardless of his condition; every dish he makes is a feast for the senses. In spite of what happened to his eyesight ten years ago, his ability to prepare any dish with outstanding precision never truly left him when he laboriously wormed his way out of the pity gutter to return to his usual hobbies and passions, all thanks to your generous help and hard-hitting encouragement. It was a back-breaking struggle, to be sure — Ignis has been an old friend of yours before he was your lover, and you love him too much to let him wallow and give in to the abyss of despair. You were the one who helped him day by grueling day, lending him a hand when he grappled to make a meal on his own, until such time that you realized that he could already stand his ground when he started to even help _you_ with your own cooking.

Perhaps, what also really attracts you to watch Ignis work his way in the kitchen is the crisp aroma of his perfectly brewed coffee that has a magnetic pull enough to draw anyone closer, or that sweet blend of cinnamon and nutmeg that he usually concocts whenever he bakes you your favorite pumpkin pie.

But now, as you watch Ignis stir cracker crumbs, sugar, and butter together, what makes this setting all the more comforting is that nothing is absolutely better than seeing Ignis in his natural habitat, in his most hallowed ground, wearing a quiet, contented smile on his face that you haven’t seen in him in years, with his sense of sight finally regained.

You prop yourself against the counter, studying Ignis with keen interest as he breaks a pair of eggs and pours a cup of cream cheese into a larger bowl. The both of you share a comfortable silence, but you notice Ignis glance up at you for a wordless second.

“It’s rude to stare, my love,” Ignis says briefly, his attention still fixed on the bowl as he adds a dash of vanilla and a tablespoon of flour.

“Iggy, there’s a huge wall of difference between staring _and_ watching,” you defensively respond. You sneak closer to his side, taking a peek. “Also, is this pumpkin cheesecake you’re making?”

“Yes—cheesecake bars to be exact,” he confirms while he whisks the mixture until it visibly turns smoother. He turns to you for a moment to quickly press a kiss on your cheek. Ignis may seem rather too formal or reserved at times, but when it comes to showing his gestures of affection to you, he allows you to see a side of him no one even thought could actually exist.

“And darling,” he continues as he pours the cheesecake batter from the bowl into a square pan, “this won’t be ready in an hour or so.”

“I know,” you smile, and you swiftly dip a finger into the bowl and withdraw the dollop of cream into your mouth for a taste.

Ignis shoots you an incredulous look, “Impatient, are we now—“

 _“Mmm,_ Iggy,” you half-hum and half-moan his name, sounding a little more aroused than impressed with the exquisite sweet taste lingering in your tongue. “This is—you’re so  _good."_

“Why, um, thank you—“ A tiny tinge of pink creeps on Ignis’ face, whether on the compliment itself or the innuendo you purposely implied somewhere in between, you can’t really say. He sets the bowl down, still with a generous amount of batter in it.

You take another dip, but this time, you drag Iggy’s gaze onto you as you raise your cream-covered fingertip, slowly teasing it to the small circle of your mouth, seductively preserving this magnetic eye contact...

And at a frightening speed, you suddenly press the cream on the tip of Ignis’ nose.

You break into a shit-eating grin. Ignis, completely nonplussed, adjusts his glasses and looks at you gimlet-eyed.

“You did not just do _that,"_ his obvious surprise betrayed the easy and casual tone of his voice.

“Oh, Iggy—I just _did.”_

“Alright, then,” he calmly nods, seemingly letting go of the current state of his face, about to return to his efforts—until he scoops a spoonful of cheesecake batter and spreads it on your cheek.

You squeak in astonishment, and he only throws you a satisfying smirk. The both of you struggle to stifle the laughter, and you, in your glorious cheesecake-kissed face, gape at him in disbelief, “Oh, I see how this is.”

The war commences when you swipe a can of whipped cream and spray a good portion of it on Ignis’ glasses. To deliver his delicious retribution, he playfully tackles you in a hug, and the both of you explode in laughter as he desperately reaches for the can in your hands. He finally gets his revenge when he snatches it away from you and he sprays it on your face, smothering your lips. In between your fits of laughter, he litters your cream-filled mouth with sticky sweet kisses going way over to your nose, and up your forehead. When he bends down to kiss your neck, you take the auspicious opportunity to wipe the foam on his glasses with your tongue. Your laughter is so infectious that Ignis is breathlessly laughing along with you that all giggling and squealing wafts around amidst the creamy catastrophe.

Before you can even unleash further damage, Ignis is fast enough to hold you down on both your wrists and traps you in between the counter and his body. He slightly tilts his head to your side, leaning just a little lower to meet your small frame to finally kiss and lick the mess off your face.

“You taste perfect, my love,” he whispers in your ear, and you can swear you can already feel your face shamelessly igniting into a violent blush. He even adds, in a low growl, “How I would love to eat you out.”

And boy, how the tables have turned.

But feisty as you are, you know exactly how to swing it right back on your favor.

You yank the sleeve of Ignis’ shirt and you catch his mouth for a kiss of your own. You can feel the cheesecake batter stuck on his nose smear somewhere on the side of your face. He tasted of cinnamon and pumpkin spice, while your mouth still lingered the sweetness of whipped cream; you savour him as he does you. Minutes of sloppy and sugary pumpkin cheesecake-flavored kisses flash by, and you did not cease teasing him when your hands move to his chest, travelling all the way down to his crotch.

“My love, I—“

You decide to escalate things on your own accord; you didn’t even give him another second to object when you drop on your knees, urgently unsheathing him off his pants and taking his hardened length into your hands. Ignis could only watch you and your soft, luscious lips wrap him so beautifully, the heat of your tongue sending him to instant pleasure, while your warm hands vigorously pumping all at once. You look up at him and you lock his gaze with yours while your mouth keeps the pleasurable pace of sucking and relishing his throbbing size.

You watch Ignis shudder to keep himself steady that he harshly grips on the edge of the counter with his right hand while grasping for a lock of your hair with the other. The repeated grunts and groans of your name that he makes through clenched teeth is music to your ears. Ignis relishes the view of your head bobbing fiercely, the movement of your lips sliding in and out, gracefully taking all of him. His fingers tighten around your hair when you feel him come inside your mouth, and you release him and meet the tip with a wet _pop._

You spare him a wicked grin, and as always, Ignis could only manage to watch as you visibly gulp and lick your lips in delight.

“You taste even more perfect, Iggy—“

And that was more than Ignis can take.

He swiftly hauls you up in his arms and sets you on an empty portion of the kitchen counter. Your legs dangle clumsily on both his sides, and the commotion of your hands and his is a bustling mess of your dress and your bra and his button-up being discarded one after another. It is a hazy burst of need and rush, but despite of it all, Ignis still permits himself to take a step back, marveling at the sight of your body.

And by all means, he would take his time to marvel every part of you with everything his body possessed. You’re a shrine of soft curves, and Ignis is more than ready to worship you with his hands.

 _“I like my body when it is with your body,”_ he says, leaving a kiss on the crook of your neck, and you can feel his fingers rubbing the lining of your underwear, carefully tucking it away. _"I_ _like to feel the spine of your body and its bones, and the trembling-firm-smoothness…”_

You laugh, “And to think you’re using my favorite poem as a means for dirty talk—”

You were unable to finish that snarky remark when he captures your already kiss-swollen lips with his own, trembling at his touch. His fingers, as if forged by fire, slowly melts you inside as he begins to plow deeper at an increasingly scorching pace.

Breaking away, his name spills on your lips like a song of praise. You reach a fistful of his hair as the pace of his fingers went fast, faster, _faster…_

“That’s what you get for teasing me, my love,” his mouth roams back on the side of your neck down your shoulder, wiping away the little remains of cheesecake batter and whipped cream with his kisses.

“Then I hope you wouldn't mind—“ your breath dissolves into a loud moan of pleasure in his change of speed— “if I tease you for the rest of my days— _ahh!”_

Ignis suddenly pulls out his fingers and you watch him suck it clean. He returns to your neck, leaving a sultry trail of kisses all over. He traverses the soft flesh of your breasts, all the way down your hips, finally landing between your legs to consume you with his mouth.

You whine his name again, and your body is wrecked with an intense wave of pleasure. His hands seize your thighs in place, both his mouth and tongue too occupied devouring you, curling and sucking and licking, and you desperately comb through his hair and grasp for his head as he takes you apart bit by aching bit.

“Gods, Iggy—slow the _fuck_ down—“ you flail, but Ignis pays you no mind. Away he still goes curling and sucking and licking, which he now matches with his thumb furiously rubbing your clit. Ignis knows how much you liked it, how you fucking wanted it, and he can see it in the way your body responds with every move and maneuver of his mouth. He doesn’t stop until you’re almost screaming, and your back arches in a wild frenzy and you violently arrive at your orgasm.

“I can’t fucking believe you,” you exhale, helplessly out of breath.

“You started it, darling,” he rises to meet your face, the lilt in his voice is nothing less than teasing. He looks at you, his hands resting at the curve of your waist. His eyes darkened with desire, he grabs you even closer. “Now, be a good girl as I fuck you out of your wits, yes?”

All you can do is nod in response when he shoves himself in, and you brace yourself around him to accommodate how perfectly he fits you. He grinds slow, and harder, and you meet each savage motion of his hips with a cry and a curse. Your hands find balance in the strength of his arms as Ignis changes the tempo, his pelvis rocking a fast, decadent rhythm.

“You’re mine,” he claims you amidst his shaking grunts, his voice revealing a raw selfishness that you didn’t know. “You’re fucking mine, darling—“

“I’m all yours,” the words escape out of you in a breath, and you cradle his face in your hands, gently caressing the scar marking over his eyes. “Take me, Iggy. All of me.”

You wrap your legs around him as Ignis drives relentlessly inside you, pounding and pumping harder. His hand slips in between, viciously stroking your clit for the second time, and the both of you reach a heart-dropping climax in cruel and harsh moans.

In the midst of this beautiful exhaustion, Ignis relaxes against your shoulders, and you can still feel your heart racing. Your fingers aimlessly wander through his hair, still catching your breath, and you can still smell the saccharine scent of cream and pumpkin spice in the air.

“I apologize for getting carried away,” he finally shifts to look at you, and he gently brushes a stray lock of your hair away from your face. He timidly smiles and says, “I was… too rough. Did I hurt you in some way—”

You shake your head, and you gingerly pull his face for a kiss. “I’m fine, Iggy,” you grin against his lips, “Remind me to tease you once in a while in the middle of your baking sessions.”

He laughs, and he laces his fingers with yours. “I don’t think that will do us any good. But I have to say…” he drifts off into a moment of silence, and you watch his face solemnly form a smile, and then he finally says it: “I missed seeing you like this.”

His words were simple, yet it carried so much weight and meaning that you lost all power to reply. A gripping happiness and relief overwhelms you that you could only look at him in genuine admiration and affection as you stare right back into his clear green eyes. Of course he missed _seeing_ you. Ten years under the cover of darkness and now, finally, he _can_ see and he’s seeing _you._ He had silently suffered the crippling fear that he might forget your face, and the mere sight of you right now in all bare skin and flesh—and bless his soul, your beautiful smile has his heart tumbling in his chest—Ignis couldn’t help but give himself another moment to drink in every measure of you and to bask in your presence.

“I missed seeing you like this, too,” you say, taking his hand and kissing it softly. “And I love you.”

He cups your face, and you savour the warmth of his touch. “I love you, too. And I’d love to show you over and over again.”

“What exactly do you propose?” you egg him on, and Ignis is already taking another round of kisses on your neck.

“Would you mind if we continue this in the bedroom?” he slyly asks, and you can feel his smile gracing against your skin.

“But what about all of this—“

“That can wait—I realized I have better things to _do,”_ he cheekily says, and you try to bite back the smile and laughter when Ignis dives right back into your mouth, carrying you out of the kitchen and onto the bed to revel on every inch of your body for the second time around.

**Author's Note:**

> Poem reference is _I Like My Body When It Is With Your Body_ by e.e. cummings.
> 
> Also, petition to have Ignis Scientia all the happiness in the world because goddamn this man deserves it.


End file.
